


Hello, It's Me Again

by ArceustheOriginalOne



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, But not sorry?, Human Bill Cipher, I should say sorry, M/M, Major Angst?, Major Illness, Major character death - Freeform, Sick Dipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:03:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5546492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArceustheOriginalOne/pseuds/ArceustheOriginalOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill visits the old house he and Dipper used to share and old memories slowly creep up on him, ones that he buried a long time ago. Once that are better left to the passage of time.</p>
<p>But the memories won't stay silent forever and Bill finds himself face to face with a reality he's been running away from for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello, It's Me Again

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be a Christmas story but I'm posting a day late..oops? I can never meet time restraints. I do recommend listening to certain songs while reading this, such as 'When I See You Again' and what not. Might help the mood a little? Lol, we'll see.

Bill Cipher leaned his head back against the dusty armchair, eye closed.

Around him, the room was still, sheets thrown over the love seat and couch, windows blocked with thick curtains that were partially parted, weak sunlight streaming in. The air smelled heavily of dust and age, the entire house not having been lived in for years that had almost been lost to time.

The blond haired man sat there, hands resting on the arm rests, the smooth fabric beneath him familiar and strange all at once. How long has it been since he's walked these floors? How many years since he's sat in this chair? How many hours or minuets or seconds had gone by without his laugh echoing off these old walls?

Opening a tired blue eye, staring at the cobwebbed decorated chandelier and intricate ceiling tiles, he blinked, unsure what to feel as he sat here amidst the memories and the black and white images that crept into his vision. Drumming his fingers on the furniture, he sighed long and hard before hauling himself from the chair. His boots clacked against the faded wooden floor and he trailed his hand over everything he passed, garnering dust and clouds of settled debris.

_" Bill! "_

" Hey'a, Pinetree, " He said softly, walking to the long abandoned fireplace, it's mantle filled with old photographs and knickknacks he had never taken with him when he moved. Too painful. Too soon. " It's me again, "

He picked up a frame, it's glass mucky and caked in grime; he rubbed it away with the sleeve of his yellow peacoat. The picture inside showed two men, one tall and blond with a wide, snarky smile on his face, his thin arms wrapped around the shoulders of a shorter, plump brunette whose lips were pulled into a scowl though his eyes danced with light. He ran his pointer digit over the face of the other and he felt his throat clench as a hard lump formed. He sat it down.

He turned over a heavily worn and loved hat, it's blue pine tree symbol faded, the stitches loose. Beside it was an old bow tie of his, draped over as if had been flung there without a thought; remembering, it was. He moved some of the clutter aside, knocking off little rocks and dust, settling it to the floor. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, even though it had been so long ago, even though he had slowly pieced together what was left of his life, even though he had moved on.

But the memories were always the hardest part to let go.

Another photograph, this one taken in winter, showed the two males bundled in winter attire, a long yellow and blue scarf wrapped around their necks. Behind them, the forest displayed a serene drop of a winter wonderland, snow glistening and bright.

_" Bill, you're hogging the scarf! "_

_" Am not, Pinetree! " he laughed, " Now smile! We're sending this to your sister to brag about all the snow we got! "_

_" Seriously? "_

_" Yep!  Now say something stupid! "_

_He said his name with a laugh._

Another one showed just the brunette, his round face a light with excitement, lips pulled into a wide, beaming grin. In his arms was a book, his first one ever published, and his eyes were wide with little tears caught on the corners; Bill remembered how proud he had been, how proud himself had been, when it arrived in the mail.

_" It's beautiful, " Dipper whispered, stroking the soft leather cover, the embossed words bright and gold._

_" It is, " Bill said, wrapping his arms around him and placing his chin on the top of his head, his fluffy hair tickling his nose, " A perfect book for a perfect guy, "_

_" You're so corny, Bill! " He laughed, hugging it to his chest._

_" That I am, " He chuckled, nuzzling into his neck, " Now let's celebrate! "_

And they had.

Bill placed the photograph face down and stood there, closing his eye. His chest hurt. Taking in a shaking breath, he reached behind and grasped the aforementioned book, bringing it out from hiding. It was the same one in the picture, it's cover now worn and pages thumbed through a million times. He blew the dust off and cracked the cover, the familiarity of the inside rushing to meet him. The inside pages were a dark blue with gold leaf lettering but Bill flipped to the next page, running his fingers down the words, the heaviness in his heart tugging. It was a handwritten note, scrawled in black ink, addressed to him, the words bold and heavy.

_' Bill,_

_This copy's for you! Thank you for all your support and I wouldn't be here today without you! Don't get a swelled head when you read this but I love you!_

_Dipper'_

He shut the cover softly and replaced the book, continuing down the line of broken memories he refused to visit until now, fragmented pieces that created a full person. He had never hated the gathering of photos he himself had put up against the other's wishes, his face red and flustered. He liked showing off his husband and the pictures were important to him. Reluctantly, arms crossed and nose in the air, Dipper had allowed him to, his cheeks burning.

Now, he wished he would have listened to him.

The photographs were a timeline of their lives, something he had done on purpose. From their early dates to the engagement, his love's face happy and teary eyed, wide smile on his face, Bill's proud and smug, the selfie taken deep inside the forest on a warm spring day. They both had pollen in their hair and light scratches on their faces but the wide smiles they shared was enough to show the utter joy behind the taking of it. That had been the photo he had uploaded to facebook and the onslaught of comments they had shared had made him laugh at the time. Especially the one from Dipper's great uncle Ford.

' I should have ripped him apart when I had the chance.'

Even now, the memory made him laugh, hollow and fake.

The next one he selected was his favorite. Had been and will be, forever and ever. He had promised the brunette that when they pulled it from the manila envelope and the promise still stuck all these years later.

It was their wedding picture.

While the ceremony itself had been a little unorthodox, it was one of the fondest memories Bill allowed himself to visit through the years. And now, looking at the picture, he felt cheated; his memories didn't do him justice.

The brunette was radiant, a crown of white and blue flowers resting on his head, his eyes bight and full of life. He wore a tuxedo t-shirt, so hating dressing up, his head resting on Bill's shoulder, who actually wore a tuxedo, black and gold. Their hands were clasped, fingers intertwined. The gold bands on their ring fingers glinted in the autumn light.

_" I do! "_

_" Bill! " He laughed, shoving him lightly, " The ceremony's over already you dork! "_

_" I'll say it a million times more, Pinetree! " He laughed, swinging him around in a mock dance, the people gathered around joining in, " Because I love you so much, my little sapling! "_

_" Just shut up, " He hissed, hiding his face in his chest, the tips of his ears red. " I do, too, "_

The memory made his hands shake and he quickly put the photo down, not wanting to damage it. Covering his mouth, he took in a labored breath, the room small and confining. When the anxiety passed, he breathed deeply, steadying himself. Once he was sure the feeling had passed, he pressed on.

Each photo after that showed the married couple or one of the other, a wide array of achievements and days spent with each other. Dipper winning the Palmer O. Johnson Memorial Award for his second book, Bill being presented with the Golden Mask Award for his work in the Russian Play of Anastasia, their second anniversary. Some contained their siblings, Tad Strange and Mabel Pines, and others included other people important to their lives, Grunkle Stan, Great Uncle Ford, Red and Question Mark, 8-Ball, Zanthar, but the majority of the collection was him and Dipper.

The last happy photo was Dipper and him sharing their third year together in Italy, a gondola ride through the streets of Venice.

_" What if it tips? "_

_" It's not going to tip, Pinetree, " He rolled his eyes, offering his arms to the unsure male, " Now get in! "_

_Making a displeased hum, he took Bill's arms and was pulled into his chest, the small boat rocking lightly in the water. " See? Safe and sound. " He paused, grinning down at him savagely, " For now, "_

After that, he started down the part of memory lane he never visited.

His Pinetree was bright, intelligent, and full of life, something that could never be snuffed out or taken. He was feisty and easily embarrassed, his cheeks scarlet at the first hint of a compliment. He hated his puns and his stubbornness caused more than a few of their fights, but he was still his. He was the awkward man Bill had chosen to spend the rest of his life with.

The following set of pictures showed his Pinetree slowly becoming something he wasn't.

His smiles were more forced, the tell tale bags under his eyes darker and heavier. His skin, once healthy and sun kissed became pale and drawn. His face lost it's roundness and he started to lose weight, his normally soft curves becoming bony and sharp. It was difficult to watch his sapling wither and after assuring him that it wasn't anything he had done to himself, Bill had immediately taken him to a doctor in Portland to get some answers.

Bill blamed himself.

He should have noticed all the signs. Everything that added up over the months of sudden illnesses. Bruising on his hips, joints riddled with pain, the creaking and popping of each bone as it struggled to keep him standing. If he had noticed sooner, maybe he could have done more.

Osteosarcoma.

Bone Cancer.

Primary, stage III.

The onset of the cancer had been sudden, within a year of the third anniversary, and it had been progressive, staring in his thigh and hips; while Dipper had been experiencing mild pain in his legs, they had never thought it more than just overworking them, always on the move or never resting. Bill had honestly thought it to be an early case of arthritis. He was loath to admit that his Pinetree was sick.

After the second, third, and fourth opinion, Bill finally gave in.

Thereafter, everything whirled together, the tests, biopsies, x-rays, the chemotherapy; that had been the bane of Dipper's existence. All too soon, he had shown signs of his thick, soft hair, falling out in clumps.

_" Shave it, " His voice was soft but firm, his hand grasping a nest of brown curls._

_" Pinetree, " Bill said softly, placing his hands on his trembling shoulders. " We don't- "_

_" Shave it, " He said again, looking up at him with wide, fearful eyes, " Please, Bill, just get rid of it. I can't- I can't just- "_

_He broke down into sobs and Bill had relented._

Watching his beautiful hair fall to the ground wasn't the hardest part for Bill.

It was watching him struggle.

As the months went by, the calendar always dotted with dates of appointments and scheduled therapy, he saw his husband  strive for results, always forcing himself harder and longer than what anyone else had done; if the doctor told him three steps, he's go ten. Bill had long ago accepted that that was his Pinetree, an overachiever.

The pictographs broke off to show a happier Dipper, hair shorter but face aglow. Remission had been a long fought battle and when he started to get better, he took the opportunity and ran with it. Long scraps in the woods, family gatherings that he had avoided for the last couple years, traveling with Bill as he debuted all across Europe, full of hope and life. The photo Bill picked up next had been taken by Pinetree, slightly out of focus and off center. They had been traveling through California to visit Mabel who had been hired as a costume designer on the set of Alice's Adventures Underground and Dipper had wanted to surprise her with a sudden appearance.

_He shifted the bouquet of flowers in his arms, sending waves of glitter all over him. " You think she'll be surprised? "_

_" Of course she will, Pinetree, " He rolled his eyes, carefully maneuvering through the congested traffic. " She's going to be so overjoyed, Shootingstar will barf rainbows, "_

_His nose crinkled, " Bill, that's disgusting, "_

_He threw head back and laughed, " You know it's true! Come on, admit it! "_

_" No, " He said stubbornly, lifting his nose up and turning away from him. But the corners of his mouth twitched and soon they were both laughing, cruising down the road with nothing wrong in their small, sheltered world._

And then, just before his birthday, he had gotten a call.

_" Yellow? " He answered, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear, flipping through the pages of some gossip rag as he waited to be rung out by the slow, unmotivated cashier._

_There was only static at first but Bill could slowly hear labored, short breaths in the background. He frowned and replaced the magazine. " Pinetree? "_

_" ..........Bill, " His voice was so heartbreaking and lost that it froze the blood in his veins, " He...help me, "_

_He dropped his basket of groceries and ignoring the angry mutters around him, bolted from the store._

_He found him in the kitchen, crumpled on the floor, coughing madly and crying hysterically. His fists were pounding the ground and he spoke in jumbled mess, spitting and hacking. When Bill had dropped to the ground to gather him in his arms and their eyes met, he lost any control he had and dissolved in fits of hysteria. It was all Bill could do to get into the car and all the way back to Portland._

Recurrence.

The cancer had come back, just a year short of being cancer free.

If things had been hard the first round, the second had been a nightmare. Bone scans, more biopsies, and MRI's were constant the first few months and Dipper struggled to keep up with the onslaught of time keeps, his body resisting at each turn. More rounds of chemo, experimental drugs that only had him throwing up every hour, and surgery to remove the bones that were unable to be saved, and soon it was all the young brunette could do to sit up in bed and keep a conversation.

The next photo of the brunette that found it's way into his hands was a quiet little snapshot of him outside, leaves rustling in his hair and the backwash a mess of orange, red, and yellow. His eyes were dark rimmed and tired, the spark gone again, and he held a small smile upon his lips; his hands were on the porch railing to keep him upright and he was turned to the camera, most likely to scold Bill for something.

The next day they had received a package.

_Bill trotted down stairs, arms full of laundry and stopped halfway down. " Pinetree? " He nudged the other male's back lightly with his toe. " What are doing on the stairs? " He didn't have a good feeling about the papers held between his hands._

_" They're from the hospital, " He whispered, not looking up, " They're the results of the last appointment I had, "_

_The blond lowered himself so he was sitting on the step above him, his long legs spread to cradle the small body beneath him. The clothes were tossed aside over the banister to he could run his fingers through his hair; Dipper didn't admonish him._

_He clutched the papers close to his chest, crumpling them as his body started to quiver, " It's in my lungs, "_

After that, there wasn't much more the doctors could do.

They had explained, in soft voices that had said the same words all too often, that Dipper just wasn't reacting to the treatments this round. The chemo hadn't worked, the drugs weren't affecting his body in the way it should be, and that, with him developing stage IV osteosarcoma, there wasn't much more they had to offer. Whatever they threw at his body, no matter how much it left him beaten and bruised, it fought right back just as hard.

At that point, it was Dipper's decision on what course of action to take. They could either continue fighting the cancer as they had been with no clear end in sight, maybe not even a cure, or he could walk away and live the rest of his life as he chose to, even if was shortened drastically.

_The hand he held in his own trembling one squeezed firmly. His eyes were downcast, looking at the dark tiles of the posh office they were seated in. He licked his lips and raised his head to stare into Bill's own blue one. " I'm tired, " he said simply, guilt weaved through each syllable._

_" I know, " he answered through the lump in his throat. He knew which one his defiant little sapling would pick._

After that, there were no more hospital visits, save for the ones caused by catching the flu or even a cold; the chemo had lowered his tolerance and ability to fight a cold drastically and even a mild case of the sniffles could land him in an overnight bed. Instead, Dipper focused on doing things he wanted to do. Despite not receiving any more treatment, he seemed lively and ready to take on the world.

They didn't travel much and Bill refused much of the work offered to him if it took him out of state. Dipper's time after that was split between Bill and his family, mainly his twin and his two great uncles with who he's spent the majority of his life with. Quiet evenings at home, Mabel teaching him how to knit, which admitting, he wasn't very good at, discussing deep rooted mysterious of the town with Stanford and sometimes venturing out with him if he felt up to it, and even going on a road trip to vandalize all the other tourist attraction in Oregon with Grunkle Stan. Each precious memory, no matter how small it seemed, was caught on Bill's camera and displayed on the mantle of their fireplace. Eventually, he installed a shelf along the back so he could place more frames.

Christmas.

The New Year Party Mabel and Stan had thrown at the Mystery Shack- at $40 leaving fee no less.

The spring festival held in Piedmont when they had visited Dipper's parents.

Summerween, Mabel and him wearing themed costumes of Teams Magma and Aqua from the games they played.

And the very last photo Bill ever took of him.

Dipper was sleeping, snuggled up on his sides, arms wrapped around the large, stuffed deer Bill had won him at the fair, nuzzled into the animal. His hair was a mess, fluffy strand every which way, dark lashes resting on his hollow cheeks. He was sickly and beautiful all at once and the dull ache in heart throbbed harder. He remember peaking in to tell him something to find him asleep. How he couldn't resist the urge. The tan skinned man had tip-toed delicately in to capture the shot and, after taking it, had stood there and stroked his hair, laying his head next to his.

A week later, his Pinetree was gone.

_" Bill? "_

_"Hmm? " He answered, looking up from the thick script his agent had sent him, flipping through highlighted lines and marked notes._

_The tiny brunette padded into the room, drawing in the blanket around his shoulders tighter. " Can we go up to the roof? " His voice was tired and all but a whisper, his hazy eyes pleading._

_Bill frowned. Dipper's condition wasn't exactly stable, he had had one too many fits this week and he had been running a fierce temperature. Just last night he had collapsed while carrying his dinner plate to the table and dissolved into a hacking fit. Against his better judgement, he had allowed Dipper to remain home after his husband assured him over and over that all he needed was rest. " I don't know, Pinetree, " he began, chewing his lower lip, " You should be resting. "_

_" Please? " He asked, reaching his hand out to grab his arm. His voice was laced with desperation. " I really want to see the stars. "_

_Sighing, the blond relented. " Fine, fine, " He said, glaring down at him, " I spoil you far too much you know that sapling? "_

_Dipper smiled up at fondly. " I know, "_

_After gathering a large comforter from the spare room's closet, Bill began to guide him upward, helping him up the stairs and out to the balcony where he climbed down onto the low roof of an alcove that housed Dipper's reading area. He held out his arms and the other male reached out and was carefully lowered down on the slightly inclined roof. The comforter was spread beneath them and they lie, side by side, hands clasped and fingers intertwined, staring up at the stars._

_Despite it being on the cusps of autumn, the air was warm and the air buzzed with noises of the forest and near by town. Dipper gripped his hand tightly. " Hey, Bill? "_

_" Yeah, Pinetree? " He asked softly, stubbornly staring up at the millions of little lights._

_" I love you, "_

_Bill swallowed harshly, his eyes burning. " I love you too, " He answered thickly._

_" Remember when we first met? " Dipper asked with a smile, turning his head to look at the blue eyed man._

_" How could I forget? " He laughed softly. " You hated my guts, "_

_Dipper frowned. " I did not, " He denied._

_" Yeah you did, Pinetree, " Bill corrected, smile curling the corners of his mouth. " You told Mae-Mae that I was, oh what was it? " He tapped his chin in thought and Dipper flushed. " Oh yeah! An arrogant, loud mouthed, hot headed, idiot. "_

_" You still are, " He teased quietly._

_" Why you! " He got up and drew the man into his lap, tickling him lightly, fingers dancing up his sides. Dipper howled with laughter and squirmed and the two only settled down when a coughing fit took him, wracking his body with violent shivers._

_Rubbing his back, chin resting on the top of his head, Bill stared out over the expanse of the lawn, once again fighting the lump that kept rising in his throat and the nagging sensation in the back of his mind. In his arms, Dipper fiddled with his bow tie, straitening it and tugging it. " Hey, Bill? " He asked again, laying his head against his chest and taking in the rhythm of his heartbeat._

_" Yeah, Sapling? "_

_" Can you recite Erik's lines? "_

_Bill sighed in exasperation, playfully, " Really, Pinetree? Phantom of the Opera? "_

_He nodded tiredly and closed his eyes and Bill barely heard the 'Please?'_

_" You really are spoiled, " He joked, running his fingers through his hair. Never the less, he cleared his throat and began to spout out lines of Dipper's favorite play, voice deeper than normal and ringing loudly. He recited through the night, holding him close, voice trembling and shaking as he went on.  " I am going to d-die of live, " He chocked out, "I am dying of love, " He pulled his sapling close to him and curled around him, whispering into his hair, " I lo-loved her so. And I lo-love her still. If you knew how beautiful she was when she let me kiss her. It was the first...time. The first time I ever kissed a woman.. Yes, alive... I kissed her a-alive. " He kissed the top of his head and sobbed, wrapping his arms tightly around the frail body in his hold, stuttering past the last few word, "  And sh-she looked as b-b-beautiful as if she had been d-dead, "_

And he held his body and rocked together, bawling for the first time since he had fallen sick.

Choking, gripping the edge of the mantle for support, Bill gasped out a sob, dropping the picture frame, not paying any heed as it clattered to the ground at his feet. The memory, one he had suppressed for years, found it's way to the front of his mind and he was left without a leg to stand on. It was as if the clock of time moved backwards and it was autumn again and he had just lost his soulmate all over again, the weight of the reality he avoided crushing him. He sobbed, his shoulders shook with suppressed heaves and he placed his forehead against the cold wood of the fireplace. " Pinetree, " He moaned, knees shaking and knocking together, " Pinetree, " He repeated his name like a mantra, unleashing the floodgate of tears he held inside him. Turning his back on the photos, he pressed against the long dead hearth and slid tot he floor, eye wide and watery. Wheezing, he picked up the dropped picture, pleased that the glass had not shattered, and brought it up.

His smile.

His eyes, tired and brown.

The slightly visible birthmark of the big dipper upon his forehead.

His Pinetree.

Gone to the passage of time.

He placed his lips to the glass, kissing it softly,tears rolling down his cheek. " I love you, " He whispered, hunching over, " I still do, "

He sat there in the dust and grime of the old house, crying tears he had held inside for years, pining for someone long gone. He didn't care how long it was or how long he would be, he stayed there, absorbed int he memories of happier times and sadder times, everything flashing by in hazy pictures and videos, remembering things he had not allowed himself to enjoy for a long time. Even when his tears stopped, when his sobs had been subdued, when he sat there, exhausted, head back and eye closed, he didn't stem the flow of recollections, crawling down memory lane, the littlest things bringing a flow of emotion.

It was hours later, long after his mind stopped working, that he was finally brought back into the present, the past slowly fading behind him once more.

A knock made him crack his eye open and he looked around tiredly to see a woman, bundled in a thick coat and scarf standing in the doorway uncertainly, fidgeting in place. Forcing down the irritation that had crawled up to claw at his heart he raised his head to look into her worried hazel eyes. " Bill? " She asked softly, taking a step into the room hesitantly.

" What? " He murmured, turning away to look at the cob webs along the grandeur.

" You didn't come home... it's five in the morning.. I just..figured you'd still be here. "

Sighing, he groaned and forced himself up, back cracking and joints popping at the sudden movement. " I'll be out, " He said to her, watching as she nodded and moved away, clasping her hands in front of her.

" I'll wait outside, " She added, turning and quickly leaving the house to go wait by her still running car.

He placed the photograph back onto the shelf and looked over them once more, fondness coming over his features. He picked up the old trucker hat and turned it over in his hands before heaving a deep sigh and gently setting it back down. " I have to go, Pinetree, " He said, fiddling with the large, black buttons of his coat, looking around the darkened room, " But I'll see you again next year, like always. "

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked out of the room, boots thudding on the wood loudly, he turned his back to the collection of memories and once more shut that part of his life out, sealing them in the house in the woods.

He's visit again next year, like he always did, and maybe he'd make his way into more than just the living room and find more memories he had buried deep inside his broken heart.

But for now, he had to go.

It was Christmas Eve and his wife was waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry....Christmas?
> 
> If you'd like, drop by my tumblr to ask or post me anything! I love making new friends and I lurk there quite often! Also, any mistakes are mine and mine alone. I read through it but I'm not the best self-editor out there!
> 
> http://arceustheoriginalone.tumblr.com/
> 
> I do a lot of Gravity Falls stuff, I just need to post shit. Mo-ti-va-tion.


End file.
